


Frostfalls of Solstheim

by HircinesHuntingGround



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Past Lives, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HircinesHuntingGround/pseuds/HircinesHuntingGround
Summary: Frostrós starts having lucid daydreams of her destiny or her past? She can’t tell what’s either or both. As Dragonborn, she’s drawn to the old tombs to find the word walls and coming face to face with the ancient dragon priest, Fopeyt. All of Fopeyt’s memories flood through the Last Dragonborn. Including memories of the First Dragonborn, Miraak.
Relationships: Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. First Frost

_ Do you ever feel like something isn’t right? You do all you can to live and survive. You have a place to live and a family whether they’re blood or not. They’re still family. _ _   
_ _ But something is calling you. _ _   
_ _ You need to find ‘home’. _ _   
_ _ You don’t know what or where or who ‘home’ is and it eats you up everyday. _ _   
_ __ You feel a destiny. A plan. Something big is meant for you but when, where?

_ How will my life change after it starts? _

“Frostrós!”

I looked over at the large Nord man that approached me. “Hmm? Oh, Farkas?” I tilted my head.

“You spaced out there…. You okay?”

“Yes. I must be tired from that job?” I shook my head. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what is going on. Ever since rumors started about the Dragons, my mind’s always been racing and something is pulling at me. Where?

“You’re doing it again….”

“Sorry… perhaps I should lay down.” 

“Yea. Go rest. I’m sure my brother will have another job for you soon.”

I sighed and nodded. Laying down wouldn’t fix a thing. But it’d at least get me away from people. At least, it’d stop them from talking to me. I stood up and walked to the common bedroom, throwing myself on the fur covered bed. I closed my eyes and listened to the murmuring of my companions. Not paying attention to any of the words. Only the non-specific droning. It kept my mind occupied for a little before it wandered. Snow caps of the mountains. Frigid icy water of the Sea of Ghosts. Ash falling around me. I felt the ash in my throat. My coughing brought me back to the present.

I groaned. What in Oblivion was wrong with me? I’ve never been past the lands of Skyrim. No farther north than Dawnstar, Windhelm, nor Winterhold. And no further south than Falkreath or Riften. I ran my hands through my hair, unraveling it from the multiple braids. 

I rolled onto my back and stared at the wooden ceiling above. Hopefully, Vilkas or Skjor would come back and give me a job. Something to distract me from myself. Something worthwhile.

I closed my eyes. I felt the sharp intake of frigid air when I took a breath. My breath floated around me in a thick fog. A tomb? Draugr infested tomb? I heard chanting from a wall? What language was that? I opened my eyes. The same wooden ceiling as before mocked me. 

I certainly needed rest but, I was never going to get it if I couldn’t stop having these visions. I groaned loudly, gaining the attention of my fellow Companions. I flipped over on my side, not wanting to be disturbed even though they were now alerted to my most obvious distress.

Why had I started daydreaming? And all this talk of destiny I had not wanted to believe. Perhaps, the Divines had actually decided something for me. I wanted to laugh.

Perhaps rest wasn’t what I needed. Maybe I needed to go on an adventure? Investigate these rumors of Dragons.

I stood at the charred gate that used to be Helgen. The ash was thick in the air, and felt like molasses when I swallowed. I choked on the air. It wasn’t only wood that burnt. 

I ducked down when I heard a deafening roar. A gust of wind knocked me over, colliding with the remains of the gate. 

Then I saw it.

Dragon.

It flew away from the gutted, charred remains of the once magnificent fort. Towards the mountains and out of sight.

My attention diverged into the fort when I heard moaning and yelling. Survivors!

I stumbled to my feet and used my greatsword to cleave the door with ease. An Imperial soldier looked at me, shocked. He noticed my Companion’s armor. “Thank the Divines! Can you assist? There’s several people buried in the rubble.” He talked so fast. Adrenaline. I helped move broken beams and small boulders off of people.

There were more survivors than I assumed, but even the poor folks we couldn’t save, they’d at least get their last rites and messages to family. 

The soldier thanked me and asked my name so he could send payment after everything was taken care of. I refused any payment. He was perplexed by the thought of a mercenary refusing pay. I shook my head. I had come here for another reason. I could help for free. He told me he thought the dragon headed towards Riverwood. Perhaps I could let Jarl Balgruuf know. Back to Whiterun.

I passed through the little hamlet of Riverwood on my way back. Nothing seemed amiss. An older woman complained about the dragon she’d seen to her son. But no other rumors.

I looked up when clouds blocked out the sun. Snow?

No.

I looked around. Ash. And Snow. Red Mountain laid in the distance, spilling its noxious contents.

I looked around.

Riverwood phased back as I turned to look behind me. I thought I saw a dragon fly over my head. Nothing.

I must certainly be going mad. Perhaps Sheogorath has gotten a hold of me.


	2. Word Wall

The night was clear. The twin moons hung in full view, in full phase, illuminating the surface of the snow banks. I looked around. This wasn’t right. Snow and ash. I looked up. A small red bird flitted into view along with the greenery of Riverwood. I shook my head.

Surely, I have gone mad.

I squeezed my eyes shut and slapped my hands on my cheeks. Hard. I felt the tingle and rush of blood to my face. I’m positive I had marks as well.

“I need you to stay here on Nirn, Frostrós.” 

My eyes wandered up the mountain on the side of Riverwood. Bleak Falls Barrow. Something called to me. Beckoned.

I trudged up the mountain. The green slowly faded into grey and then into white. The temperature dropped the higher I climbed. Soon, the snow whipped around me. The wind bit at my face. I did my best to find warmth in the clothing I had in my pack, but nothing kept out the bitter chill.

I stopped at the front door of the barrow and stared at the door. Ancient Nordic murals hand carved into each door. I ran my fingers across the etchings. A jolt went through my body. Through my soul. I drew my hand back and shook it. I shook my head. Had to be static. I pushed the door open and shut it after I walked into the barrow. For a moment, the barrow seemed light and lively. Then the stench of rotting flesh hit my nose. Skeevers. Several bodies of the overgrown rats littered the floor of the entry hall.

Also the bodies of bandits. I thought they were bandits. Was there a great spoil in the Barrow left from long ago? I walked carefully through the cobweb littered hallways. Something about it felt… familiar? I laughed to myself. How?

I heard movement and knelt down. A bandit. I guess I’d hav-- I covered my ears when I heard awful grating noise and then the sound of arrows. I looked up when the noises stopped and heard a loud thump. Bandit laid out on the ground. Arrows littered his body. I quickly made my way down the stairs. The bandit was long gone, not that I knew about restoration. 

I looked around the room. There was a lever and moving stones. Nordic Puzzle. I looked towards the gated door. I saw the massive nordic faces with matching symbols as the moving stones.

I moved the stones to match the symbols.

My hand nearly slipped down the shaft of the lever from sweat. Divines I was nervous.

I opened my eyes when the screeching of the gate stopped grating against the stone (and my ears). I let out the breath I had been holding. 

I survived.

I looked around. I heard shuffling below me. There was a spiral staircase to the side of the room. I smelled stagnant water as I entered the stairwell. The shuffling became louder.

Skeevers.

I kicked one of the overgrown rats down the stairs as I struggled with my sword in its hilt. 

Finally!

I slashed at another skeever. As disgusting as these creatures are and how they attack on sight, I’ll never get over how they sound as they die. Especially when I am the one killing them.

I cleaned my sword off and continued down the stairs and the hall. Dead draugr laid on the floor. 

Are draugr really dead?

“Is someone there?”

I heard a voice yell. They yelled out some names I couldn’t comprehend. I followed the voice.

“Look out. It’s above.” I saw a Dunmer struggling in some webbing. Spiders? I looked up.

Holy Mara!

I watched the spider as I edged along the side, careful to avoiding any loose webbing. I managed to make my way to the elf and pry him free from the webbing. He took off screaming about some treasure. The giant spider stirred and slowly made its way down its web. I ducked into the smaller hallway before it could see me and make a meal out of me.

I turned my head down the hall when I heard a trap spring followed by the sickening crunch of a body. Hopefully that was a draugr….

I rounded the corner, careful to tread around traps and alcoves. I did not need to become overrun with draugr. I saw the body of the dark elf. I rushed over, hoping he’d still have some life to him. I was too late. Damn it!

I gave a quick prayer to Arkay. Before I left, I noticed a gold claw poking out of his pocket and grabbed it. I traced the outlines of the animals on the back of the claw. I normally didn’t steal, especially not the dead. I’m not sure what drew me to taking it.

I shoved the claw in my bag and treaded carefully around the hallways. I remained quiet to avoid the draugr detecting me. 

It wasn’t long before I came face to face with a door. The stylized circles could move as I picked on them. And the middle had holes… that looked big enough for the claw I found. I traced the outline of the animals on the door and moved them accordingly to the claw. 

I closed my eyes again when I inserted the claw into the holes. I covered my ears when I heard the door shriek against the stone as it slowly collapsed.

A giant maw of a cavern stood before me. 

A wall. 

A sarcophagus. 

I walked up the stairs and looked at the wall. The words were fuzzy. And gloomy. They danced around my head. 

A shout?

Force.

I put my hand on the cold stone. I felt a jolt of electricity and then nothing. 

Blackness. 

And then a dream?

_A man paced in front of me. His golden dragon priest mask bounced off the candle light. “Fopeyt… You have something on your mind. Speak.”_

_“Miraak. You can’t do this.” I felt the words come from my mouth but I know I didn’t say them._

_“Come with me.” He held his hand out to me._

_I reached out, but pulled back at the last moment. “You know I can’t. This is madness Miraak. You can’t betray them all. Where will you go…? You can’t outrun Vahlok….”_

_I could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You think I cannot win….” he sighed and turned away. “I shall not lose but if something happens to me.” He paused and turned back towards me. He took 4 long strides, taking off the gold mask before kissing me, “Find a way to Apocrypha.”_

_“Wait!” I reached out, but it was too late._

I opened my eyes. The dragon wall loomed over me. Mocked me. I sat up and rubbed my head. What a dream. I reached up to touch my lips. 

His name was Miraak. My name was… Fopeyt? It must be in Dragon…. Miraak sounded vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place it.


End file.
